Check: Queen Threatens King

[King Ghidorah]

As per the revised judgement, I give you - The Terrifying Conclusion. I actually felt kind of bad writing it, so if you'd prefer to pretend Ghidorah gets hit by an ice-cream truck and Dawn is nursed back to health by a friendly nocturnal ice-cream man, stop here.

The changeling has rolled over onto her back by the time I reach the roadside where she lies half-hidden in the tall grass; The mad-woman shows no signs of rising. My enemy's eyes are open but unfocused and her breathing is short and sharp. Her ruined clothing and warped, melted armor are sticky with blackened blood. Much of the girl's exposed skin is reddened and peeling, the rest is either covered in vivid white blisters or outright charred. The wings that mocked me are crumpled and broken, one a smoking ruin, the other crushed beneath her when she had fallen.

I growl in satisfaction. Blinking hard to force the drifting black spots from my vision, I prepare to deliver the killing blow - only to realize that there's a problem. With my leg injured as it is, it can neither support my weight while I make lethal use of its partner, nor be used to do the deed.

For a moment I stand above her, my ravaged form glinting electrum in the starlight. I don't know what to do. Swaying on my feet, I stare at my soon-to-be victim, lost amid the muzzy clouds drifting through my battered brain. I'm dimly aware of the position of each of the three horns that hides atop my head, because they all hurt.

The girl groans, shutting her eyes slowly and tightly. When she opens them there's a spark of consciousness there. A light.

It inspires me.

Slowly, hissing from the pain, I crouch, shifting as much weight as possible to my good leg. Gingerly (which is such a soft, word, but with a ring of poison to it that I can't help but enjoy) I wrap an illustrious golden hand around the changeling's throat. With even greater care I stand, lifting her by the neck until her feet dangle above the bare earthen road. She gasps at the pain as I raise here wasted body, but the strength of my grip traps the sound in her throat. My hiss deepens into a growl.

A breeze rolls through the valley The whisper of the wind in the grass is like the roar of boiling seas amid the stillness of the night.

"Dawnika Snow," I say. The name feels thick and awkward on my swollen tongue.

She gurgles and flails, weakly wincing as her injuries protest. All of her strength - gone. I hold her at arm's length until the tantrum is spent.

"Was that all you had to show me? Have you no more hidden weapons or bizarre transformations? No further surprises in store?"

The mad-woman's eyes begin to flutter, and I shift my grip to her jaw. The way in which I'm holding her prevents a response, but I have more to say, and it wouldn't do for her to strangle just yet.

"Surely bluster, strength, and misplaced determination aren't all that you bring to this world. Are there people who will miss you? Were there things you expected to accomplish? Do you dream?"

I look into her pupils, ringed by such a unique shade of blue, and I see my own reflection filling her world; a thin, broken-fanged face, cracked and swollen from the changelings hammering metal fists. Moonlight glints silver off my golden scales and my sunset-red eyes gleam in the dark. My horns, still throbbing in pain, are barely visible through a mop of tangled yellow hair.

"There's a universe inside of every one of you pathetic micro-organisms, Dawnika Snow. Worlds of ambition and ideas - and I'm going to burn them to the ground. They collapse as you die, little pyres of secrets and possibilities. Utterly unique - exquisite. This world is beautiful, Dawnika - a marvel of complexity and texture, and every person in it only adds to its wonder."

I pull her close, leaning heavily on my uninjured leg. She tries to resist but I squeeze her neck with both hands until her eyes threaten to pop out of her skull. I whisper, my voice raw and shaking- but I don't even care. I didn't realize how badly I needed to tell someone how this all works, and now that I'm doing it I can't seem to stop!

"I'm going to destroy it, Miss Snow. It's only when a thing is lost that it can be appreciated! I'm going to get my real body back, and then I'm going to ruin everything! And when there's nothing left of the Omniverse but wasted architecture and poisoned air, it will. Be. PERFECT!"

My shout echoes across the valley. Night-time avians burst from the nearby forest, and mammals bleat and howl among the moonlit fields. Lights appear in the villages and towns, little pools of limpid gold upon night-time's silken shroud.

The combination of effort and excitement makes my vision pulse. I relax my grip and nearly fall but the pain that shoots up my leg and into my spine renews my focus. The girl whispers something. A blade appears in her hand. I unclench one hand and seize her wrist, breaking it with shocking ease. The sword falls and dully clatters on the ground. She barely has the strength to scream.

"What," I ask her, "was that?"

"Fuck off..." she breathes, her gaze hazy and distant.

I grit my cracked and broken teeth and focus on the well of Omnilium inside me. Instantly, an otherworldly pressure washes over me from the woman whose fading life I hold quite literally in my hand. She's full of the stuff.  It’s not suspended like it was within Coxley, but vibrant and moving. She practically shines.

I rumble gleefully. "Very well. But you're coming with me!" 

The procedure starts slowly, wisps of softly shining rainbow mist beginning to rise off the mad-woman's shattered form. Confusion flickers across her cracked and bleeding features, then emergent comprehension, then a kind of rebellious acceptance.  

"Remember," she begins, interrupting herself with a violent, blood-filled cough. "Remember my name. Some day, you'll run from the sound of it." 

What a nonsensical threat on which to waste her last words. I don't dignify it with a response, concentrating instead on the process of her demise. 

The minutes tick past and the mist becomes a cloud, suffusing her. Dawnika Snow doesn't turn blurry like Coxley did. Rather, she shrivels - then sharpens, hardening into a blindingly glowing crystalline rainbow form. Her dogged silence turns to a single, incoherent scream of terror and pain. Tendrils of Omnilium vapor form a spiral around us, casting the grasses, pond and hills in shades of brilliant prismatic sparks. Together my victim and I light the night more brightly than any star.

My former opponent’s scream rises even further, becoming a single perfect note, impossibly high - and then she shatters, bursting into a million shards of raw, radiant potential. They swirl majestically around me for several seconds, as though cautious - before diving into my body with a thunderous crack and merging seamlessly with my own Omnilium essence.

The night is dark again, silent, save for distant cries of alarm, both human and otherwise.

Within me, a cosmic furnace roars.

I'm nearly overwhelmed by a familiar feeling - a familiar potential, rising from the static of my internal astral storm. ]It's the same sensation I used to get while ensconced in my cosmic cocoon after I'd arrived on a planet, but before revealing my true glory. A greater form has awakened inside me, waiting only for my decision to ascend (which is a delightful word, crisp and clear, evocative of its meaning).

"Yes," I hiss. "Very, very helpful."

I close my eyes and bask in the stillness for a moment before I turn to go - immediately falling over, large black splotches invading my vision. I lie still until they're gone, growling softly. It seems that empowered or not, I'm still gravely injured.

Thankful that nobody is watching, I crawl dazedly up the road until I reach the lee of the dip in the hillside. Finding it suitable to my tastes, I decide to make a nest beside the pond, amid the roots of the broken tree.

Before I do anything else, I'm going to have to heal.